Seducing A Winchester
by MissesDeanWinchester94
Summary: This is my first published fanfic! I am open to any advice you may have! I'm not quite sure where this story is going, but it is a love story between an original character of my own creation and Dean Winchester. There may be some smut in the future, hence the rating. Please let me know if you enjoy it!


Robbed! Fucking _robbed_! I'd driven all the way to this shithole of a town, killed a werewolf who had been running amuck, saved their _asses_, and then one of them had gone and robbed me. I wasn't even sure what had made them grab my duffle, all it had in it were a few weapons and some clothes… okay there were some forged credit cards and four hundred dollars' worth of cash, but they took the whole damn bag, including my clothes and supplies. The duffle was all I had, and now it was gone. I was left with the clothes on my back, a gun loaded with silver bullets, which were useless against basically anything besides werewolves, and a couple knives. Damn. Damn, damn, _damn_!

I was walking down the sidewalk, lost in thought, when the rumble of an engine caught my attention. I glanced up to see a Chevy Impala rolling down the main street of the small town.

_Hell of a nice car,_ I thought to myself, momentarily distracted. It was sleek, black, and smooth, not a dent one, and pretty clean. It was about a '67 judging by the looks of it. Classic cars were always a weakness I had, so I was still ogling the car when it pulled into a parking spot in front of the shitty motel, and the driver and passenger stepped out of the car.

If the car was sexy, then its driver was hot as hell. He was tall, though nowhere near as tall as the man with him. He had full, sensual looking lips, and looked to be toned underneath the several layers of clothing he was wearing. I shamelessly checked out his ass as he walked with the giant of a passenger into the motel.

Damn shame I wasn't a whore, or I would give into the temptation to do wonderfully sinful things with that man.

I was curious, and I didn't have anything better to do, so I found a bench outside the tiny convenience store across the street from the motel and sat down. I hadn't been sitting long when the tall passenger reemerged from the motel. He was attractive too, now that his fellow wasn't there to steal his thunder. He was ridiculously tall, broad shouldered, and toned as well as his partner. He glanced around him, hopped back into the Impala and drove away down the street, passing feet from where I was sitting. About five minutes later, the sexy partner made his reappearance. He glanced at the signs above the antique stores along the street, spotted the convenience store, and started across the street, heading straight for it.

Not that I looked extremely out of place here, but some chick just sitting on a bench in the middle of nowhere would be strange to anyone. Except for my black leather jacket, I could fit right in style wise. I had a flannel shirt on under my jacket, a pair of boot-cut jeans, and black square-toed boots.

Stereotypical? So what it makes me feel like a badass, so shut up.

Thinking quickly, I got up and entered the store. I could watch him from between shelves without being watched myself. I was a hunter, stalking was something I did well. I walked over and was looking at the candy when he entered the store.

His presence seemed to fill the small space, and it nearly took my breath away. I liked a confident man.

He glanced around, and then headed straight for the beer. I rolled my eyes. Of course Mr. Sexy had to be an alcoholic. He grabbed a case and headed straight for the cash register. Too late I realized I was in his way.

"Excuse me", he said, glancing up at me, and then he did a double take. I blinked in confusion, and stepped out of his way.

He walked the rest of the way to the register, but he was tense now. I could see it in the shape of his shoulders. Normally when a man that looked like that pulled the double take thing, a girl would feel flattered. Hell, I'd take it as an outright complement, but there was something off about it. It didn't look like finding me attractive was what made him look at me twice. I'd been hunting for a long time, so when my gut said move, I moved.

I didn't look back. I hurried out of the store, and down the street. I hadn't liked the way he looked at me. Like a hunter, not like a man. Not that I was afraid of him. If he came after me I was more than equipped to deal with him, but there was something about him that made me uncomfortable. I had feelings about people and places sometimes. It helped me when I was hunting, so I always listened to them. He had felt downright dangerous after that look.

I soon realized I was being followed. I could hear his boots against the sidewalk behind me. He wasn't too close, but he wasn't letting me get out of his sight either. I had become the hunted.

Well, if I was going to have to beat someone's ass tonight, let the dance commence. I turned at the next alley I came to, and walked between the two stores that formed it. Before he rounded the corner, I dashed silently over to a dumpster that looked like it hadn't moved in years and ducked behind it. Once I was there, it smelled like it hadn't moved in years too.

I sat there, unmoving, until he appeared at the end of the alley. He had a gun. Its silver finish flashed in the moonlight. It was drawn, and he held it tightly in his hand, ready to raise it at a moment's notice. He had to have been trained. The movements with the firearm were a little too easy, a little too practiced. My pursuer moved cautiously down the alley, glancing all about himself. He raised his gun to his chest, and then quickly stepped around a group of trashcans, leading with the barrel of his gun.

I observed him silently as he moved closer to me. I would have to move before he got to me, or he'd get his gun on me, and then I was finished. There was a group of boxes on the opposite side of the ally, a little closer to him than the dumpster. I would get him there.

He crept cautiously onward, coming closer and closer. Finally, he stepped around the edge of the boxes, and I moved.

I took the two steps toward him as silently as I could, but he had started to turn before I got there. I collided with his body in a full on tackle, knocking the gun out of his hand, and landed on top of him. He swung at me, and I dodged it just in time. I was smaller than he was. If he landed a hit I would most likely lose. He then tried to roll his body so that I would be under him, but I locked my legs on either side of his body and wouldn't let him get off the ground. I waited for him to swing again, then grabbed his arm and pinned it across his body using my weight. It was still a struggle, but I managed to hold him there. I straddled his hips to keep him from getting his feet up to me, and then smiled sweetly down at him.

"Looking for me hun?" I drawled merrily. Rarely do fights with guys twice my size go so well. He glared up at me before speaking: "Only trying to put a dog down before it goes rabid", he spat.

I blinked, slightly confused. "You know, your insults are kinda lame", I replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know I would be judged for my snark by the friggin mutt I was hunting", he replied sarcastically.

"Ah. You're a hunter", I murmured in understanding.

"No shit."

"I'm not a werewolf you know."

"Sure you're not."

"I can prove it, but I need you to give your word that you won't get violent if I let your arm go", I told him.

He eyed me suspiciously for a moment. "Fine", he said.

I released his arm, and then he was on top of me, pinning me down with his body. I struggled uselessly. He had me well and truly pinned. I couldn't even move my legs, they were on either side of his body, which might have been enjoyable in another situation.

"What the hell?" I snarled.

"I don't make deals with monsters", he spat down at me.

"I'm not a freakin' monster you moron!" my Texas accent got even stronger the more pissed off I got, and it was making its presence well and truly known right now.

"Listen, there's a silver-bladed knife in my left boot. Get it and I'll prove it."

He eyed me wearily again. "I don't think so", he growled, drawing a rather large knife from the inside of his shirt.

"Fine. Now cut me, but not deep. Do it on my arm or somethin'."

He bent down and ran the blade across the upper part of my forearm. I clenched my jaw at the little sting, but refused to make a noise.

He looked genuinely surprised that my flesh didn't sizzle at the contact.

"See?" I said smugly. "I already killed the werewolf. Well don't look so surprised!"

He stared down at me a moment longer.

"Well are you going to get off of me or not?" I asked. He seemed to realize then what position we were in, and quickly stood up. When I sat up, he offered a hand, but I pretended like I didn't see it and stood up by myself.

Now that we weren't fighting, I didn't want to touch his skin. We actually I did, but I wanted to touch it in less appropriate places.

He retrieved his gun from where it had slid to a stop across the ally while I admired his cute backside again. He then turned and held out his hand again. "Dean Winchester." I didn't have a choice this time. I reached out and took his hand, which was calloused, but somehow still soft. "Leila Baker, nice to meet you."

"So Leila, you killed our werewolf?" "Yes. The bitch didn't go down easy, but this wasn't my first rodeo either. Why do you keep looking surprised?" The last sentence ended in a demand.

Dean had the decency to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry, you just don't see a lot of chick hunters, and even then not so many short ones."

I glared up at his smug face. "That's a lotta shit-talkin' comin' from someone who just got their ass kicked by the short chick." I retorted.

He just laughed. I liked the sound, a deep throaty chuckle. It made me want to hear what other noises he could make… Dang, my mind was in the gutter tonight.

Dean had finished laughing and looked down at me again. "So if the werewolf is done for, then why are you still here? I mean, I don't know how you usually do this, but me and my brother usually make tracks after we kill the monster."

I sighed, getting angry all over again about my duffle. "I'm still here because one of these stupid local idiots stole my duffle bag, which had everything I own in it. I don't even have a change of freakin' clothes."

He looked at me sympathetically. "Well, if you have somewhere you can go, me and my brother can give you a ride", he offered.

"I don't have anywhere to go. I don't even have a car, I just steal older models to get from one place to the next… or I just walk. As for family, they're all dead, and I've never had a friend a day in my life. It's just a little side-effect of growing up with a hunter parent." I knew my voice had gone bitter by the end of it, but it wasn't something I could help. My past had that effect on me.

"My dad was the same way, except it was always on me to feed and watch out for my brother while he was running all over the country looking for a demon that killed our mother. Now it's just me, Sam, and Cas."

"So you know the sob story then. I'm assuming the guy with you is your brother, so who is this 'Cas'?" I blurted out before I could check myself. I could've bashed my head against the brick wall of the ally.

Dean's eyes crinkled with surprise at the strange question, but he answered anyway. "A close friend. Family really. I think you'd like him if you ever met him."

No girlfriend. Why was I relieved? A guy like that didn't go for short, chubby chicks like me. Yes, I'm chubby. No matter how many times I was forced to go without food, no matter how many times a month I had to run for my life, I was always chubby. It was complete bullshit, but I couldn't do anything about it.

I chuckled slightly, and Dean spoke again before I had to chance to formulate a response to his last statement.

"Maybe you could come home with me? I mean, not like that, what I meant was would you like to live with me, err, us. We have rooms open in the place we live. At least until you get back on your feet." He was actually blushing slightly by the end of his humorous blunders, and I couldn't deny it was adorable, despite the guy being six foot tall to my five foot four inches.

I smiled at him. "So what? You guys settle into a nice house or something?" I asked. "Something like that", he replied vaguely. "I think you'd have to see it to believe it."

I frowned. "Ya'll aren't some psychopath murderers or anything, are you?"

He laughed again. "I can't say we aren't because some people would call us both that."

I couldn't deny that was true, so I smiled at him again.

"Why not?"


End file.
